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Published: April 2nd 2008
Dahn Bir
This is our guide, Dahn. He was great in every way. We wouldn't have made it without him.We left Kathmandu and headed for Pokhara, the jumping off point for Annapurna treks, via tourist bus. Tourist buses in Nepal are not the fancy, comfortable, air-conditioned luxury liners that they are in Taiwan. They're not even the intensely uncomfortable, new, air-conditioned budget mobiles of Japan. They are squeaking, shuddering, cramped, dusty affairs that hurtle along ill-maintained mountain roads passing and being passed with abandon. On the up side, they do only cost $6 for a 6 hour ride, and we got serenaded by some village boys who knew almost all the words to an unending folk song.
We spent half a day in Pokhara poking around, watching cows and buffalo stop traffic, and reorganizing our packs before heading out the next day on our trekking adventure.
The adventure began when we boarded yet another bus--a local bus. I am of the opinion that tourist buses retire to become local buses. Local buses have a truly local flavor. They are painted wonderful, seemingly arbitrary colors and in them dashboard art is taken to new heights. To say that they rattle would be putting things mildly. The seats rattle, the doors rattle, the windows rattle, heads rattle, teeth rattle, shoes
Our First Full Day of Trekking
The sun rises and so do we. Here are the mountains on our first full day of trekking. rattle. And since only the middle, one vehicle wide stripe of road is paved, every time two vehicles passed the rattle was replaced by a wild bucking. Quite a ride.
After a harrowing 2 hour ride, we reached the beginning of our trek, Niapul. This is where our guide, Dahn Bir Gurung got his chance to shine. All of our extra clothing, sleeping bags towels and the likes rested on his slim shoulders. Chris had a small day bag with valuables and toiletries, and I carried the water bottles. Off we went!
The first day was a nice, calm introduction to trekking. It was short, easy, and not at all what I expected. I had expected to walk through a rocky, wind whipped wasteland with mountains constantly looming over us. For the first day and a half we were walking through farms of amazing pastoral beauty. Stone houses lay in the middle of beautifully terraced fields plowed by buffalo. Goats or cows rested under giant raised haystacks and roosters crowed throughout the day. Heavily laden donkey trains passed us by, their many pitched bells making lazy melodies as they walked. Porters trudged along carrying impossibly heavy loads strapped
I See You!
On the second day we catch our first glimpse of the prize, the Annapurna mountains. to their backs via a rope passed over the forehead. This footpath is the only supply line for hte villages deeper in the mountains. As we were going up, we passed a family coming down. Some were carrying baskets of bags and goods, but one man was carrying the most precious burden of all. On a basket strapped to his back sat grandma on a pile of cushions.
Our second day was, by far, the most challenging. We went up. And up. And up for six hours. In the morning we were threading our way up a terraced hillside, but after lunch there was a dramatic change in scenery. Farms gave way to a lush and dazzling rhododendron forest. Where I come from rhododendrons are flowering shrubs. These rhododendrons were no mere shrubs. They were towering trees and the forest was filled with them. Gazing across a valley through a gap in the trees, entire hillsides appeared a deep vibrant red-pink. We arrived, exhausted and satisfied in the bright blue town of Ghorepani and settled down for a well-deserved rest.
We were woken up the next morning before sunrise and followed a line of trekkers donning head lamps
Trecherous Mountain Trail
Here Alex thinks hard on whether to use the whip, or the pistol. up Poon Hill. We reached the top of the hill just as the sun was rising illuminating Annapurna One and the major peaks of the Annapurna range. First the very tips of the peaks shone light orange, and soon whole mountains were bathed in orange light. There were about 80 of us up there, sipping tea, shivering and snap, snap, snapping away.
We were suffering from mild altitude sickness, so we decided against pushing forward and actually took a day off. We wandered around in the woods near the town. These weren't the heavy rhododendron forests that we had come through. The woods were light with grassy hillocks and small trees. Little rivers and tiny rills were bordered by walls of purple flowers. We spent the rest of the day discussing what it means to be good and playing scrabble. Our scrabble game was interrupted by a cadre of filthy little boys. Try as we might we could not shake them. Thinking that they could speak no English, Chris asked the oldest, "What's your name?" Without blinking an eye each replied in perfect English. They then began to recite the ABC's quite energetically. When one of us would spell
Mountain Cheeks
Here a young boy kneels down to get a head start on his plumbing career. a word on the board they would spell it, and they we would teach them how to say it and what it meant. Once an ESL teacher, always an ESL teacher, I suppose. What a bus man's holiday! We gave up on our game when the boys pulled up chairs across from us and proceeded to spit repeatedly on the littlest one.
The next day we hit the trail again and trekked into Tadapani. The views were again, quite spectacular. Mountains grew closer, and forests had a fairy-like glow. The dining hall at our lodge had a heated table. It was heavy, wide, huge and rimmed with heavy blankets. Under it were two huge metal buckets filled with coals. What a toasty warm evening we had.
The next day brought us to Chomrong. Dahn decided that this was the perfect day for laundry. Following his lead I washed my only pair of trekking pants, both of my sports bras, and both pairs of trekking socks. The sun shone down on us gloriously. Until the hail came. Chunks the size and shape of older mothballs rained down on the tin roofs of the dining area and sleeping quarters for
Poon Hill Kiss
Making it up to Poon Hill for a sunrise kiss in front of the Annapurna range. the better part of two hours. Chris and I happily enjoyed the show from the dining area until we remembered with a start that we had left our bedroom window open. No one dared brave the storm to walk the 10 feet over to the rooms. Happily, a fellow trekker was watching the storm from right in front of our room. Through a series of gyrations, misunderstandings and hand motions we finally conveyed that no, we didn't need our laundry taken in, we needed the window closed. The window was closed and our stuff saved. Thank you Thomas from Switzerland now residing in England. Needless to say, I had been a little too ambitious with the laundry and it wasn't even close to dry by bed time. Thomas came to the rescue again and taught me that damp clothes will dry if you sleep with them in the bag. So I slept with a soggy surprise lingering at the bottom of my bag. It didn't bother me too much considering I slept in long underwear, jeans, a t-shirt, a jacket and a hat. I woke up to find two steamy warm pairs of trekking socks, ready to wear.
Our
Beautiful Mountains
Each day the mountains became even more beautiful than the day before. next stop was in Dovan. At this elevation the little villages had petered out and only lodges remained. The lodge in Dovan had a very nice cat who knew that laps are warm and had no problems sitting on mine. We shared the place with a German documentary crew among others. The sun had already set in our valley when we were called outside by one of the cameramen. Machapuchara was bathed in soft orange light. Surrounded by heavy filming equipment, we stood admiring and snapping pictures with what had seemed until earlier that afternoon a pretty sweet camera.
From Dovan we made the final push up to the base camps. Here we had to clamber over some old avalanches and completely detour around others. We did so happily not particularly wanting to be buried under several tons of snow and ice. I had caught a cold and was not happy with the cold, damp slushy conditions. Still we pushed on. We arrived at Machapuchara Base Camp when the whole area was in a cloud. I jumped in my sleeping bag and shivered, miserable in the room while Chris walked around. What Chris saw made me curse my cold
Colorful Rhododendrons
Rhododendrons explode red all over the mountain side. all the more. A bunch of the porters and guides had taken an old pair of wooden skis and ski poles that were lying around and proceeded to ski very badly down some very shallow inclines. Not wanting to take the skis off to walk to the top of the run, the porter with skis would ride on another's back before skiing down again. And I was shivering in my sleeping bag. Hrmph.
We were joined that night by a group of middle aged Japanese trekkers that we had been playing leap frog with all the way up the mountain. Their guide, Norren, recommended a guaranteed Nepali cold remedy--hot water with turmeric and ginger. I didn't think it would actually work, but it was free, so I choked it down. Surprisingly, I actually woke up feeling much better. Which was good because we had to start off on a dawn trek to the top, to ABC--Annapurna Base Camp.
Annapurna Base Camp is not something you can describe with words so I won't try. There are plenty of pictures below that show just a fraction of the beauty of that place. We got there as the sun was washing
Tadapani
Alex watches evening set in over the small mountain village of Tadapani. over the mountains and by 9 am, the time we left, the mountains were totally shrouded in clouds. Not wanting to get caught in the afternoon rain, we left and sped down the same way we had come. Unfortunately for us, today the rain came early. It wasn't rain exactly. It was a mix of bb sized hail and rain which combined to make a wonderfully treacherous slush. Not the stuff you want to be walking down a mountain through. We waited out the worst of it under a giant rock and Dahn, ever prepared, lit us a tiny little fire to warm our chilled bones beside. The day that had started out so well was not winding up as we had planned. We passed the night chilled and soggy.
We were not much in the mood to walk through the rain again so we kept it short the next day. We ended up in Sinuwa with most of the day to burn. It was a glorious day and we spent the evening with a fun group of travelers. I learned a new card game from a Danish girl, and once again the Japanese group was with us. Their
Dawn on the Mountian
The sun peaks over the peeks and lights up a farming village. guide had kept them from drinking at high altitudes, and now that prohibition was lifted, it was time to party. Nepali people love to sing and dance and no one more than one of the Japanese group's porters. No sooner would he remember a verse to a folk song than he would be up and dancing in the cramped confines of the dining area. He couldn't seem to remember two verses at a time, though, so he would spend one or two minutes sitting and thinking, before again bursting into song and dancing around. We were entertained that night by a group of singers and dancers from a local village. They do this to raise money to maintain the wooden bridges and the hiking trails. By the time they got to our place that night, though, it was both freezing cold and windy. Plastic chairs blew around and the lodge sign actually blew over. Chris and I were forced to dance, and though it was fun and interesting in theory, it was so cold that I'm sure everyone--especially the singers--would just rather have turned in.
We pined for warmer climes and the next day in Jinnu, we got exactly
Heading for the Prize
We made our way up this valley to the range beyond. The mountains loomed closer every day. what we wanted. Jinnu was a fun place with a hot spring. The Japanese group joined us once again, and once again, it was a day to party. This night the Japanese group's porter was to be outdone by a laborer attached to the lodge. Dahn affectionately called him Discoman. Discoman was about 5 feet tall and had only one hand, but boy did he love to sing, dance and talk. He sang verse after verse of a song in a local language that no one spoke, had a very long conversation with, well, at, one of the Japanese trekkers egged on by the man's polite smiles and nods. He had a very distinctive way of dancing which included flexing the muscles in his arm to wiggle his stump around. Wow. Discoman is right. Our little private party joined a party thrown by an actual singing group a little later. Chris turned in, but the Japanese men, their porters, Dahn and I danced for a good couple of hours. I did a couple of lighthearted impressions of both Discoman and the Japanese groups porter that everyone enjoyed and danced the night away. What a night!
The next day was
Cool Mountain Bath
Chris cools down in a refreshing mountain spring after hiking. Holi. You couldn't miss the signs. Every porter and guide coming down the trail was smeared in pink powder. Tourist trekkers weren't immune either. Some had little splashes of color carefully dabbed here and there, more adventurous cheeky types were smeared all over. Chris and I did not escape the fun. The proprietor of one lodge must have been a real Holi fan. Not satisfied with pouncing on everyone that passed her lodge by, she toured around other lodges looking for victims. In Chris and I she found a willing pair, and so we found ourselves covered in pink.
The remainder of our trek was hot and uneventful. We passed through more villages and once again ended up in Naipul, where we had started. Our bus driver almost came to blows with another over passing rights as our bus rattled and bucked back down to Pokhara.
The trek was so much more than I thought it would be. Far from being alone on bare mountain sides, we met some wonderful people, had some really fun times, saw Nepali people living lives so dramatically different from my own, and saw the most amazing scenery. Thanks to Chandra at Nepal
Machapuchura
Machapuchura is known as Fish Tail Mountain to the locals. Here the sun casts its last rays on the summit. Experienced Adventure Travel (NEAT) for setting it up. I'll recommend the company to everyone. Thanks so much to Dahn Bir, our guide for everything. Thanks to all trekking friends we met along the way. Phil and Tim from the UK, Thomas from Switzerland, Sophie and Lasse from Denmark, Peter and Heidi from Australia, Alan and Anne from France, Andrea and Phillip from Australia, Sakata-san and his group from Japan, Norren from Nepal, Michael from Australia, and anyone I've forgotten to add, thank you for sharing the trail with us and I hope we might bump into each other again some day on some other great adventure.
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